


Clothing Theft

by KandiSheek



Series: Kinktober 2019 [15]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (if you squint), Clothing, Clothing Theft, Crack, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, Funny, Gen, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, Steve is suffering, The rest don't really give a fuck, Tony Stark's Red Thong of Justice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 22:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21084248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KandiSheek/pseuds/KandiSheek
Summary: Steve can't seem to find his favorite blue shirt.





	Clothing Theft

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure crack. I don't know what happened.
> 
> Also, yes, this is the second fic in a row that doesn't have explicit porn in it. During KINKtober. My mom is very proud.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this one and that you might get a laugh or two out of it. Bye bye!
> 
> Kinktober Prompt 15: Clothing Theft

“Hey, has anyone seen my blue shirt?” Steve asked as he stepped into the common rooms, a laundry basket under his arm and a frown on his face. Clint looked up from the tower he was building out of cheez-its and blinked.

“Which one?”

“The blue one,” Steve repeated irritatedly. “My favorite one!”

Tony scoffed. “Dude, you only wear blue shirts. That doesn't really narrow it down.”

“I don't –” Steve said indignantly. “What the hell, Tony? I wear white shirts and grey shirts and flannel shirts –“

“Wait, really? I thought those were Clint's,” Tony said consideringly, eyeing the archer who – wait a minute –

“That's my shirt!” Steve said accusingly, pointing at the checkered button down Clint was wearing. “Why do you have that?”

Clint looked down at himself and shrugged. “Dunno. Must've gotten mixed up in the laundry.”

“I always do my own laundry!” Steve protested and narrowed his eyes when Tony suddenly looked very busy studying the empty wall. “Tony?”

“Uh-oh, the disappointed Cap voice,” Clint cackled, cut off by a pained yelp when something hit him in the head. Steve was pretty sure it was one of Natasha's nail clippers.

Sure enough she was draped over the edge of the couch, one leg raised in a perfect split as she painted her nails and – wait –

“Those are my sweatpants!” Steve said, his voice raising in pitch. He gave Tony a withering glare. “Tony, what the hell did you do?”

Tony winced, hands raised placatingly. “Okay, so remember how you guys were gone on a mission and I was getting your rooms painted cause white is honestly so depressing, even Pepper thought so, and it was like the perfect opportunity to do a little housecleaning so –“

“Stark,” Steve growled warningly and Tony sighed, throwing his hands up in defeat.

“Fine! All our clothes got mixed up in the dry cleaning and I just had the maid sort them the best she could.”

Clint slammed his fist down on the table. “I knew it! That was one red thong too many!”

They all stared at him silently until Natasha slowly lowered her leg.

“You wouldn't have happened to try it on,” she said threateningly. “Did you?”

Clint gulped and Tony raised a hand.

“Uh, I think that's mine actually.” Everyone turned to give him an incredulous look and he shrugged. “I was looking for it and it wasn't there, so...”

Steve put his head in his hands. “Oh my god, I did not need that image in my head.“

“Anyway, isn't that mine?” Tony asked, pointing at Natasha who looked down at the threadbare Iron Maiden shirt she was wearing and shrugged.

“It's comfy.”

“I might be wearing Clint's underwear,” Bruce suddenly said and they all turned to look at him where he was sitting in the corner.

“What?” Clint asked incredulously. “How do you even know it's mine?”

Bruce took a sip of his tea, slurping loudly and smacking his lips. “You mentioned something about red thongs?”

They all let that sink in for a moment.

“Well,” Tony said. “At least it looks good with green.”

“Christmas Hulk,” Clint hummed consideringly and Natasha raised her other leg to continue painting her nails.

“Okay, this stops now!” Steve said resolutely, glaring at each of them in turn. “Everyone, go to your rooms and fetch your clothes. We'll sort this out right now.”

“But that's _work,_” Clint whined. “It's our day off. Lounge day. Leisure day.”

Steve's eyelid twitched. “And I'd really appreciate it if I could spend my day off, the only one I have this month, in my own damn clothes,” he growled and Tony gasped dramatically, pointing at Steve with an outstretched arm.

“Swore!”

“You're not cute,” Natasha deadpanned and Tony gave her an utterly betrayed look.

Steve groaned in frustration, dropping heavily onto the couch as he put his head in his hands. Clint rolled his eyes at him but a look at Steve's feet made him do a double take.

“Dude! You're wearing my socks!”

Steve's head snapped up to give him a withering look. “No, I'm not.”

“You are!” Clint exclaimed, reaching down to pull at the elastic. “I bought these! With my own, hard-earned –“

“You used my credit card, you ass,” Tony grumbled.

Clint waved a hand at him. “Whatever, point is they're mine!”

“They're not!” Steve snapped, his shoulders tense. “I've been wearing these for ages! They were in my drawer when I moved in here!”

“But I've worn them, too!”

“Why were you wearing my socks?” Steve shouted hysterically and Tony patted his back.

“There, there. It could be worse. Bruce could be wearing your underwear,” he said, giving Bruce a scathing look that Bruce answered to with a serene smile.

Steve groaned. “Why is no one else bothered by this?”

“Why are you so bothered by it?” Tony countered. “Isn't this, like, the ultimate form of team bonding or whatever?”

“I don't want anyone to wear my underpants but me!” Steve snapped. “And I still want my blue shirt! It's mine, I own it, I want it back!”

Tony raised his hands placatingly. “Okay, okay, we get it.” Then he smirked. “For the record, if any of you want to strut your stuff in my clothes, I don't mind at all.”

“Duly noted,” Natasha said as Clint grimaced.

“Dude, don't make it weird.”

“It's not weird,” Tony said with a shit-eating grin. “Besides, who are you to kink shame me, Mr more than one red thong?”

Clint scoffed. “I never said your _kink_ was weird. I just don't want you to live out your fantasies on my fucking body.”

Tony wrinkled his nose. “There are literally millions of people who I'd rather see in my clothes than your skinny ass.”

“You _wish_ you had this ass!”

“How the heck is this my life?” Steve moaned into his hands. Bruce just chuckled, swirling the tea around in his cup.

“Okay,” Natasha said, finally putting down her nail polish to give them all a stern look. “You all heard Steve. If he's uncomfortable with us wearing his clothes then we'll give them back.”

“Thank you!” Steve shouted with an almost comically relieved look on his face. “Let's just get it done real quick and then you can all go back to your leisure day or whatever the heck you're –“

“Friends!” Thor's voice suddenly boomed from the elevator before the man himself stepped into the room, his arms flung wide. “What generous soul has bestowed upon me this assortment of Midgardian clothing? It is most becoming, I thank you!”

They all stared at Thor – or, more accurately, at Thor's chest which was currently clad in what looked like one of Steve's white wifebeaters. The fabric clung to him for dear life, stretching almost obscenely over his pecs, and Tony swore he could hear the seams crying for mercy.

“On second thought,” Steve said slowly, his eyes fixed on Thor's magnificent abs. “Maybe we don't have to. Right now.”

“Sure thing, Cap,” Tony agreed, pushing the blue shirt he'd nabbed from the back of the couch further under his butt. “Whatever you say.”


End file.
